


Kingdom

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Master/Servant, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Snippets of Prince Noctis and his omega pets.





	1. Prompto

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “the guys are Noct’s pets [...] abo, d/s verse, or straight up slavery, don’t care. I’m just looking for Prince Noctis to treat Prompto, Ignis and Gladio as pets that he owns (and we’ve all seen how nice to animals Noct is. Only the best food, the best accessories, talking sweetly to them as though they’re real people and not pets, ect)” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9198475#cmt9198475). I’m thinking of doing short parts for Gladio and Ignis too, but we’ll see...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The ride up to Noctis’ apartment is spent in silence. Noctis’ posture is as casual as ever, his hands stuffed into his pockets, but Prompto can’t stop shaking. He stands just a smidgen behind Noctis more for that than because of his status. He can’t believe it’s finally happening.

He can’t believe how _lucky_ he is. He knows he’s relatively old to be unmated, a year out of college and still alone—his heats have been hell, but he’s managed, that and all the others things that omegas crave alphas for. He didn’t have any offers. And he probably wouldn’t have taken them. He _knows_ Noctis already has two pets. He knows that Noctis can do a lot better, _deserves_ a lot better, than some commoner mutt with a barcode on their wrist. But a future king can have a whole harem if they want, and Prompto desperately hoped for this despite all the odds. 

The elevator reaches its stop, and Noctis steps out first, Prompto following. He half expects Gladiolus and Ignis to greet their master as soon as he steps into the apartment, but that doesn’t happen. Noctis and Prompto shed their shoes, then beeline for the living room. They pass Ignis on the way, diligently working in the kitchenette without a stitch of clothing. Prompto’s steps falter out of shock. It probably shouldn’t surprise him. At home, pets have no need of clothes. But they’ve always worn clothes around Prompto before, when he’d come over as just Noctis’ _friend_. Ignis’ bare skin is a stark reminder of how much that’s about to change.

And maybe it shouldn’t, because Ignis is just another pet, not the _master_ Prompto will soon give himself completely to, but the sight is an extra incentive in itself. Prompto always thought Ignis was a particularly beautiful man. He looks even better with his lean body fully on display, toned and tight but lightly curved in all the right places. Prompto’s eyes automatically skim over the jut of his taut rear as he turns towards the stove. Paying no mind to Noctis and Prompto, Ignis bends low to open the drawer beneath the oven. It gives Prompto a peek at what lies between his legs, and that gives Prompto a guilty shiver of delight. Then Noctis’ low voice barks, “Prom,” and Prompto snaps back to attention.

Beyond the kitchenette lies the dining area, attached to the open sitting room. Noctis heads towards the black designer couch, and Prompto follows, even though his eyes linger on the dining table longer than they should. Gladiolus is perched there, bent over a slew of paperwork that Prompto doesn’t give a second glance. Gladiolus is just as bare as Ignis is, and his bulging muscles are always hard to tear away from. The tabletop does cover his lap, but his chiseled chest is more than enough distraction. It suddenly occurs to Prompto that he’s never seen Gladiolus’ _full_ tattoo.

He will now. Soon, he’ll be a part of them. It’s like getting a second family. He already had all three men in his life, but not like _this_. If his parents were around, they might have something to say about him accepting a collar from an alpha that already has two omegas. Then again, the fact that Noctis is the crown prince would probably shut them up. And Prompto knows Noctis can handle three pets at once. As flippant as he is with most other things, Noctis is always thoughtful with animals. 

Noctis drops onto the couch, relaxed and careless, looking for all the world like this is just another day, the two of them hanging out as they have for years. Except Prompto doesn’t presume to sit on the couch this time. He didn’t the first time he was invited over—he was a proper omega, submissive even for an owner that wasn’t _his_ , until Noctis insisted he’d rather have a best friend than a well-trained dog. Now, Prompto hopes he can be both.

He comes to kneel at Noctis’ feet. It already feels _right_. He knows he can be a good pet to Noctis. And he knows Noctis will take care of him, will manage all the needs he’s suffered through by himself. He always thought he’d end up as someone’s mutt, sitting forgotten in a corner or left out in the rain, begging for scraps, until his alpha wanted something to mount or kick around. But Noctis gives him a smile full of warmth, and he knows he’ll be okay.

Noctis asks, too quiet to carry to the other two occupants of the apartment, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Prompto nods. It’s strangely easy to transition from boisterous friend to subservient omega. Maybe Noctis’ natural leadership helps. He’s not just any alpha, but his prince—Prompto’s owner in every sense. Noctis reaches out and slips a hand into Prompto’s hair, skilled fingers smoothing it back in long, firm strokes that make Prompto want to pant happily. Noctis pets him perfectly. It’s the sort of soothing, talented touch that Prompto’s always dreamed of. He’s ecstatic already. He croons as Noctis scratches behind his ears, and then he shuffles closer to bury his face in Noctis’ knees, blissfully nuzzling into his new master.

Over Prompto’s head, Noctis calls, “Iggy.” Prompto doesn’t look up, doesn’t stop cuddling Noctis’ legs, because it’s normal for Ignis to attend to Noctis at all times. Prompto knows he’ll have to share, but he doesn’t mind. He likes Ignis. Likes Gladiolus. Really, _really_ likes Noctis. Noctis pets him all the way through Ignis’ footsteps, then lightly pushes his head back when Ignis has reached them.

Prompto lets Noctis cup his chin. He stares up at Noctis’ handsome face as Noctis plucks something out of the box that Ignis presents to him. Prompto’s so captivated with his alpha that he doesn’t even try to steal another look at Ignis’ body. He won’t get to touch it anyway if Noctis doesn’t let him. He hopes Noctis will let them all play together, but if Prompto never gets to do more than look, he’ll still be happy.

He’s delighted to see the collar that Noctis shows him. It’s black, like all of theirs are—black to match their royal prince. Gladiolus’ is a thick, sturdy looking thing, and Ignis’ is elegantly engraved with silver. Prompto’s is simpler, smaller, but luxurious and expensive-looking nonetheless. The little pendant that hangs from the front bears his name, and Prompto knows that Noctis’ is on the other side, should Prompto ever wind up lost and need returning. He knows he won’t. He won’t go anywhere without Noctis. Noctis seems to pause, like waiting for Prompto’s approval of the collar. Prompto wants to gush over how great it is, but he can’t even form the words. So he just _beams_. Noctis smiles, hesitation falling away.

He leans in to press the collar against Prompto’s throat—Prompto tilts his head back to offer more room. He bears himself to Noctis and forces his trembling body still. He winds up holding his breath so hard that by the time Noctis is done and Prompto lets it out, he’s left panting. His pulse is racing. It feels so _good_. Not just to finally be collared, but to belong to _Noctis_. He’s so, so grateful. Noctis runs his thumb along it, clearly admiring the view.

It isn’t until Noctis nods at Ignis that Prompto even remembers they have company. He gives Ignis a sheepish smile, hoping this won’t come between them—he’d hate it if Ignis or Gladiolus resented him for taking more of Noctis’ time. But Gladiolus seems to be paying them no mind, and Ignis returns a soft, fond smile. Then he lifts back to his feet and leaves.

Prompto looks back at Noctis, who pets beneath his chin and murmurs, “It looks good on you, Prom. You’re so pretty.” Prompto can’t help preening, and Noctis asks, “Will you be a good pet for me?”

Prompto nods enthusiastically. It jars the collar against his skin: a pleasant reminder of his new position. He wants to say more, but pets don’t talk, at least, not without permission. He’s already skirted that rule enough over the years, opening his big mouth around an alpha and royalty. So he just tries to say it with his face instead: he’ll be _so_ good. 

Noctis seems to understand, because he chuckles quietly and promises, “I’ll be a good master to you too.” Prompto never doubted it. Noctis runs his warm hands, gentle and smooth, along Prompto’s throat, back into his hair, up again to massage the back of his head. Prompto’s starting to feel light-headed. It’s all too good to be true. “From now on, you get only the best. The best food, the best accessories, every one of your needs met—I’m going to take care of you in every way.”

Prompto’s overwhelmed. He feels like he could cry. He ducks his head suddenly, just in case, but Noctis lifts his chin and softly tells him, “What you’ve heard about omegas isn’t true here. You’re my pet, yes, but you can still speak, and you’re allowed on the furniture. And I’ll never hurt you. I’d no more hit an omega than I would kick a puppy.”

Prompto actually laughs, because he knows—he’s seen Noctis go out of his way just to buy quality cat food for stray kittens on the street. He already knew all of it, but it’s still nice to hear it. He can’t keep back anymore—he shifts forward again to lean his entire body along Noctis’ leg. He can’t wait to get his clothes off, to press his bare skin against his master, like the others get to do. He nuzzles his face into Noctis’ thighs and mumbles thickly, “ _Thank you._ ”

Noctis answers, “Of course.” Then he’s slipping below Prompto’s chin again and tilting it up—Noctis cups both of his cheeps and brings him in for a proper kiss. They’ve had a chaste peck or two over the years, but this is the first time Prompto’s really felt Noctis tongue trail over his lips. It makes Prompto shiver in the most delicious way. The last time he saw Noctis get horny, looking at a dirty magazine in the lounge area of the arcade, he wanted to help _so bad_. But Noctis went home to his own pets, and Prompto had gone back to his empty house, cold and dreadfully _alone_.

That’s all over now. Noctis peppers Prompto’s face in kisses, captures his lips again and dives in deep, tasting Prompto so thoroughly that Prompto starts to get hard, and he has to fight not to grind his hips against his master’s calves. When Noctis parts their mouths, Prompto whines, newly desperate. Noctis chuckles at him and mutters, “We’ll move your things over tomorrow. You’ll live here now.” Prompto nods, agreeing and delighted for it. “For now, you’ll have to borrow some clothes from me—we need to find something nice for you to wear to tonight’s dinner at the palace. I want to show off my latest pet to my father.”

Prompto blushes. He hadn’t thought Noctis would actually present him in public. Newly mated omegas usually are, but he’s nothing special. But he doesn’t argue. Noctis gives him a final pet, then gets off the couch and heads for the bedroom. Prompto eagerly follows his master. 

Even though he’s down on all fours, he feels like he’s flying.


	2. Gladiolus

He didn’t wear a shirt for the outing—rarely does—but it’s not enough; he’s still itching to shed the rest by the time that he gets home. His key opens Noctis’ apartment as easily as it did Noctis’ quarters in the palace, back when he first claimed Gladiolus almost out of sheer defiance—Gladiolus had knocked him on his ass and spent a hard practice telling him he didn’t work hard enough. But when Noctis finally surged back, all feral alpha with the power of a king, Gladiolus was left breathless. He agreed to wear Noctis’ collar with hardly a second thought. And he felt no embarrassment at being shown off as such—paraded around the palace to all the other guards, all of them told exactly who _this_ guard belonged to.

Their relationship has grown so much since then. He still guards Noctis with his life, still makes sure his prince is always safe. But Noctis is strong enough to be left alone every now and again, and Gladiolus often helps the crown with other things—shadowing other diplomats or training new recruits. Cor asked for his help with the new Crownsguard today, and Noctis charitably offered up his services. Gladiolus did his best. He made sure that every solder, alpha, beta, and omega alike, saw how just how hard they’d have to work to serve their city.

After a long day, he’s tired of working, and he slumps with a sigh of relief as he kicks out of his shoes. Next is his jacket, shrugged away and left on one of the pegs—there are three sections now for all their different clothes. Gladiolus unfastens his belt and shoves down his pants and boxers the same way, leaving him pleasantly bare in the warmth of his master’s apartment. 

Wandering out of the hall, he can already tell where that master is—the television’s going, blasting what sounds like a horror movie. Gladiolus passes Ignis in the kitchenette: the most likely place to find him when he’s not on duty or attending Noctis’ personal needs. Maybe the new company’s given him some relief in that aspect. He’ll have even more time to cook. Today Ignis wears only an apron, one that covers only his front, though the loose top drapes low across his chest, still showing off his rosy nipples. The thin bow at the back secures the light fabric in place but does nothing to hide the luscious curves of his rear. Gladiolus spares the handsome sight an extra look, though he already knows Ignis’ naked body off by heart. It never grows old. Ignis spots him and offers a short smile of welcome before flittering off towards the fridge.

Gladiolus waits there, poised in the corner of the open plan living area. Noctis is lounging on the couch, the new pup curled up in his lap. Noctis’ hand absently pets through Prompto’s yellow hair, and Prompto looks so content that he might as well be purring. It’s sort of strange to see him naked too, given that he used to come over only as Noctis’ _friend_ , fully clothed, and thus Gladiolus and Ignis would dress as well on those occasions. This is better. More comfortable. And not just because Prompto’s a pretty thing, equally as scrumptious as the rest of his new family. With his knees bent up against his chest, head cushioned on Noctis’ thighs, Prompto’s ass is facing Gladiolus. Gladiolus enjoys eyeing up the round cheeks of it while he waits for his master to notice him.

Privately, he thinks the two of them make a cute couple. But after so long away from home, Gladiolus wants his turn with his alpha too much to resist interrupting. He’s pleased when Noctis finally stirs and notices him, glancing over. Noctis’ gaze is casual at first, but it quickly becomes heated.

Gladiolus didn’t shower after training. He’s left himself sweaty and lightly flushed, maybe even still breathing a little harder than usual, his natural omega pheromones slowly crowding the apartment. He knows his scent is fiercer than Ignis’ gentle pull, and Prompto’s a tiny little thing compared to them. Some alphas might be intimidated by an omega as massive as Gladiolus is. But Noctis has never begrudged him his strength. If anything, Noctis looks increasingly hungry, and after a long roam of Gladiolus’ exposed body, he stretches for the remote and flicks off the television. 

Prompto startles out of his reverie, looking up at his master, then across the living room when Noctis calls, “C’mere.”

Fighting off a smirk, Gladiolus obeys. He slinks down to all fours, crawling on hands and knees towards the couch. Noctis doesn’t require such subservience, but Gladiolus likes to give it—likes to show off the body he’s worked so hard for, and likes to show that despite his bulging muscles, he’s still a good pet for his smaller master. He pushes back the coffee table when he reaches them and settles down at Noctis’ feet. Noctis rewards him by petting back through his hair. Gladiolus doesn’t croon and mewl quite so easily as Prompto does, but he does allow a low groan, almost a pleased growl. Prompto blushes bright across his freckles, eyes dilating farther the longer they stay on Gladiolus. 

“You were gone a long time today,” Noctis muses, while his hands massage the back of Gladiolus’ scalp. Gladiolus leans into each touch, eyes falling closed as he surrenders to it. “And we didn’t even have training today...”

“’Helped Cor train the new recruits,” Gladiolus grunts. It’s never as fun as training Noctis. Still: “There were quite a few. The crown’s defenses are better than ever.”

“Any alphas?” Noctis asks. His hand skims down to scratch beneath Gladiolus’ chin, just above the collar. Gladiolus has always loved having Noctis near his throat. His neck is always littered with the bruises of Noctis’ brutal bites, his shoulders lined with scratches. He probably won’t have the energy to be so rough tonight, but he could go for watching Noctis bruise Ignis up instead. Or maybe it’s time to show Prompto just how powerful an alpha he’s surrendered to.

Noctis clicks his tongue, and it draws Gladiolus’ attention back—right, his master asked him a question. It’s so easy to drift off when Noctis touches him like this. He answers dutifully, “A few.”

“Hm,” Noctis hums, “and you went without a shirt, didn’t you?” Gladiolus nods and opens his eyes again, just enough to see a sly grin grow across Noctis’ gorgeous face. “Show off. Were you trying to make them want you? The prince’s personal guard, and such a fuckable omega, sweating and panting as training worked you up... they must’ve seen the collar around your neck and been so _jealous_...”

He can’t keep down the smirk anymore. He knows that did happen. He could smell the _lust_ on some of the recruits, but they all kept in line. Gladiolus made sure of it. He’s only got eyes for one alpha, and the two other omegas he shares his master with. 

Noctis decides, “You look tired and thirsty.” Gladiolus nods and makes a show of licking his lips. He knows exactly what he wants to drink. But Noctis calls, “Ignis, fetch some milk.”

It doesn’t take long for Ignis to deliver. He joins them with a bowl three-quarters full, and he sets it down on the floor, which works well enough for Gladiolus. He could drink from a cup, like a human rather than a dog, but that he would’ve had to fetch himself—having Noctis order means Noctis has something else in mind. Gladiolus bends forward without question, lapping the milk right out of the bowl. It’s a loud, messy process, and he can feel three sets of eyes on him while he licks his way through the creamy liquid, but that only makes it more exciting. When he’s had all he wants—maybe only half of what he was given—he sits back up and crudely wipes his mouth off on his arm. Noctis shuffles right to the edge of his seat and leans down. 

He takes a hold of Gladiolus’ cock, already slightly hard from sheer proximity to the others. It stiffens more with Noctis touching it. Noctis’ fingers are always so soft, so warm, and Gladiolus hums appreciatively as Noctis tugs him forward by it. Noctis uses that hold to lift Gladiolus up just a little, and Gladiolus hovers on his knees, while Noctis presses his cock down into the milk. Gladiolus shivers at the cool slickness but doesn’t pull away. 

As Noctis withdraws his hand, he asks, “Want some milk, Prom?”

Prompto makes a happy noise and slips right off the couch. Gladiolus tosses his head back and moans as Prompto ducks to lick away at him. Above them, Noctis pops open his fly. 

Grateful for the generosity of his master, Gladiolus leans in for his treat.


	3. Ignis

Ignis’ phone vibrates across the counter, and he taps open the lock almost on instinct. The incoming text can’t be from his master, nor either of the two omegas he shares that master with, as all three men are surely fast asleep. It’s well past two a.m., the cityscape beyond the wide windows of Noctis’ apartment as dark as it ever gets—there are some lights, like whichever room Ignis is working in, that never seem to go out. He glances at his phone’s screen anyway, as it could be something from the palace—something vital for his master to know.

It isn’t. It’s a reminder that tomorrow’s council meeting has been rescheduled. Ignis has already updated Noctis’ calendar. He lets his phone fade back to black and returns to the existing council reports spread across the table. He spent most of the day running various errands for his prince—palace work, charity events, Noctis’ continued studies, and the usual shopping trip for the apartment—but there’s always _something_ else to do. Ignis tries to do it all. Even long after he’s exhausted. And all he wants to do is crawl into his master’s lap and be held until he falls asleep. 

Of course, such idle daydreams are unbecoming of a faithful pet. Rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, Ignis tries to shed his want of sleep. He focuses back down on the form he’s filling out on Noctis’ behalf. He finishes two more lines and circles the spot where Noctis will have to sign. Then the paper’s set aside, and the next one takes its place. 

Something stirs beyond the dining room. Ignis pauses just in case. It’s likely only someone meandering into the washroom, or perhaps into the kitchenette for a cool glass of water. Nothing to disturb Ignis’ work. But Gladiolus often fusses over Ignis when he catches Ignis up too late with such things, and Prompto’s new to their den and might need help in his sleep-addled state navigating the kitchenette. Both will be tired and as naked as Ignis—always a welcome sight. And perhaps the company would be welcome too. Sometimes being Noctis’ advisor can be a lonely business, though he knows he’s lucky to have two other omegas with him, and his alpha is more attentive than most.

It’s that alpha that finally emerges from the hallway. He stumbles back when he hits the light, blinking and rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. Noctis deserves his sleep more than any of them. But he wanders forward anyway, his handsome body obscured only by a loose pair of black pajama bottoms. He comes right over to Ignis’ chair and sets one warm hand down on Ignis’ shoulder. Closing his eyes, Ignis automatically leans into the touch.

Noctis murmurs, groggy and deep, “It’s time for bed, Iggy.”

Ignis does consider arguing. _Someone_ has to do this work, and he’d rather forgo sleep to bear the burden than let it fall to Noctis. But he’s never been very good at disobeying orders. He doesn’t have Gladiolus’ defiance or Prompto’s spunk. Not that either of them are particularly bad. He feels Noctis’ other hand thread into his hair, brushing back in soothing waves. Noctis tsks, “You work too hard.”

Maybe. But he can’t help it. He just wants to be _good_. Just wants to serve his master. He’s been Noctis’ the longest. He wanted to be Noctis’ from the moment they first met as children, and he was sucked into Noctis’ orbit without a second thought. So many years later, presenting as an omega was a dream come true, because he knew that some day, he could have a chance at wearing Noctis’ collar. He does now. It fits snugly around his throat, as prim and proper as he is. Sometimes when Noctis touches it, Ignis is brought back to that moment when Noctis first asked him, blushing and looking away, the two of them in the front seat of the Regalia. Ignis had been speechless. Noctis presented him with a little box, neatly wrapped like a present, bearing the sort of gorgeous, luxurious collar that would make any omega swoon.

Ignis doesn’t swoon. But he does surrender to his prince, gladly and wholly. Surrendering to Noctis feels like the most natural thing in the world. He leans himself against Noctis’ lean body, and Noctis asks, “Are you going to be a good pet and come with me... or do I have to get your leash?”

A shiver runs down Ignis’ spine. As much as he _loves_ being lead around the apartment by his leash, he won’t make Noctis do that now. He breathes, “I’ll behave.”

Noctis presses a kiss against his forehead, murmuring, “Good boy.”

Ignis _lives_ for those two words. When Noctis pulls away, Ignis opens his eyes and follows, slipping out of the chair and leaving all his work behind. It’ll still be there in the morning, if it isn’t one of those rare occasions where Noctis swoops in and takes care of everything. He sort of hopes it isn’t. He likes attending his prince.

He obediently tails Noctis into the bedroom, where Gladiolus and Prompto are already tucked into the massive bed. They’re cuddled together even in sleep, and Ignis has no doubt that before Noctis came to fetch him, Noctis was part of that pile. Ignis settles down on the corner of the mattress, and Noctis plucks his glasses off his face, placing them on the nightstand. As Ignis settles down beneath the blankets, Noctis shuffles in behind him. 

It isn’t right, really, to always sleep in the bed, whether or not his master has any need of him. Sometimes Ignis even wants to have his own-pet bed on the floor, or a place at Noctis’ feet, like a proper mated omega should. But then Noctis is at his side, tossing an arm casually around his middle and drawing him in close. Shameful though it is, he’s glad that Noctis spoils him this way. Noctis connects their eyes through the darkness and touches Ignis a few more times—drawing a hand lazily up his side, smoothing around his waist, tracing idle patterns across his chest. Even that light touching would be enough to stir Ignis’ interest if he weren’t so utterly exhausted. Instead, he just enjoys the quiet intimacy. 

Then Noctis whispers, careful not to wake the others, “We should go shopping tomorrow.” Ignis nods his acceptance, and Noctis explains, “I want to buy you something for working so hard for me, and for tolerating my getting another pet. Maybe a new harness or a few toys...?”

He doesn’t deserve it. It’s Ignis’ pleasure to work for Noctis, and he doesn’t begrudge Noctis for taking Prompto any more than for taking Gladiolus. Besides, the four of them work well together. And most importantly, Prompto makes Noctis _happy._

Noctis makes Ignis happy. When Noctis holds him like this, he can help feeling pleasantly warm and loved. Then Noctis closes what little space lies between them for a chaste, but long and languid kiss. Ignis melts into it, even reaching an arm around Noctis to return it, to pull them as close together as possible. By the time they part, Ignis is light headed, as dizzy from proximity to his alpha as he is from tiredness. Noctis tells him, “Sleep.”

So Ignis obeys.


	4. Noctis

Normally, Noctis doesn’t rush anywhere. He doesn’t have to—he’s the prince, and others will wait for him. Besides, Ignis arranges his schedule so perfectly that he never has to worry about being late. Except today, Cor showed up in the driver’s seat of the Regalia, Noctis’ loyal advisor nowhere to be found. As he slipped into the backseat, his phone lit up with an incoming text: a slightly misspelled letter of apology from his first omega. 

Ignis _never_ misspells anything. Except, of course, when he’s frantically struggling for coherency, still trying to work despite the torrid claws of heat. In a way, it’s the worst with Ignis. He’s so proper, so well-behaved, that he seems to have the furthest to fall, and he always tooth-and-nail to retain his duties. Thinking of him, needy and sobbing for his master, has Noctis mashing the elevator button so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t permanently indent. When the doors finally open at his floor, he’s running. 

Sure enough, as soon as Noctis steps into his apartment, he’s assaulted with the colossal stench of _heat_. The place already reeks of sweat and sex. It’s thicker than it’s ever been, but he expected that. Ignis’ and Gladiolus’ heats often trigger one another, and now Noctis has _three_ omegas all cramped into one apartment. Ignis stood no chance. Gladiolus always soaks in that desire and becomes truly _animal_ , as feral as Ignis is otherwise poised. Prompto’s the youngest, the most inexperienced, and sure to fall when the others do. Noctis just doesn’t know yet how it manifests.

Noctis quickly sheds his shoes and jacket, and it’s telling that in that time, none of them come to him. They must be too far-gone to smell their alpha’s approach. He means to head to the bedroom, but following that cloud of pheromones guides him instead into the living room, where all three of his pets are writhing on the floor. 

All three of them are lost. He can see it in their eyes—all fogged up with lust, fully dilated and heavy lidded, cheeks flushed and lips wet and panting. All of them are as naked as they should be, here in their master’s home, wearing only that master’s collar. Prompto, the newest of the lot, is sandwiched between the other two, his mouth quickly filling up with Ignis’ tongue as Gladiolus spoons him from behind. Noctis can tell from the stutter of their hips that Gladiolus and Ignis are both inside him, his legs thrown wide to accommodate. The noises Prompto makes are probably the most debauched things Noctis has ever heard. Gladiolus growls like the beast he is, and Ignis quietly groans with his arousal. It’s a wonder Ignis managed to shoot off a text at all. Gladiolus simply didn’t show up for guard duty. It hadn’t tipped Noctis off—he doesn’t expect his pet to guard him _all_ the time—but maybe it should’ve.

Prompto’s actually the first to notice him. Prompto turns away from Ignis’ greedy mouth to reach out a shaking hand, and he whines at Noctis with almost heartbreaking desperation. It makes Noctis’ chest clench and his cock twitch. As fun as heats can be, it hurts to see them in pain when they’re like this, unfulfilled and helpless without him. He’s seen Gladiolus and Ignis in heat before, but though he’s fucked Prompto dozens of times since collaring him, this is the first time Noctis has seen Prompto drowning in the surge of pheromones that drive him to mate before all else. And Prompto looks like he’ll break if Noctis doesn’t soothe him. 

As Gladiolus bruises a hard bite into Prompto’s shoulder, Ignis glances at Noctis and tries to explain, breathless and stuttering, “He... P—... Prompto went into heat... and when Gladio and I tried to—” Ignis breaks off in a languid moan as Prompto starts squirming hopelessly on his cock, clearly trying to get free in order to make it to Noctis. Ignis doesn’t need to finish; Noctis can already guess the rest. He just wishes he’d been around to witness it—each of his gorgeous pets, falling one by one. Maybe then he could’ve helped them, could’ve eased them before they reached this point. Now it’s hard to know where to even start.

Gladiolus is the first to detangle them. He wrenches suddenly out of Prompto, leaving poor Prompto to clench his pert rear and wail in distress—Noctis can see the slew of cum and lube that trickles out of him. Gladiolus has an enormous dick by any standards, bigger even than Noctis’, and after feeling that and Ignis’, Ignis’ cock alone won’t be enough. And Ignis pulls out too when he sees Gladiolus get up on all fours. Prompto’s left whimpering pathetically on the floor, while Noctis’ better-trained pets get into position.

They crawl right to his feet, turn around, lower their faces to the floor and lift their rears up. Noctis just waits, hungrily eyeing them, while Prompto sluggishly tries to follow. The posture should be second nature to any omega, obvious to any pet. Prompto crawls between the other two and turns to present himself the same way. Though he’s smaller than them, his ass perks the highest in the air, trembling with eagerness, his cheeks flexing wildly with want and sending more liquids gushing down his crack. Noctis isn’t surprised to see that Gladiolus’ and Ignis’ holes are also fucked-open and lubed-up. Clearly, they tried to satisfy themselves with each other. And it didn’t work. They need an alpha’s touch. _His_ touch. Noctis turns from one twitching hole to the next—Gladiolus’ meaty cheeks, Ignis’ tight backside, Prompto’s soft globes. They’re all handsome, all beautiful beyond words. He knows he’s lucky. The only trouble now is choosing who to fuck first. Prompto’s hole is stretched the most, drenched the most, stained white around the edges and still leaking copiously down his stained thighs. It would probably be wise to leave him for last and give his channel a chance to tighten up again.

But Ignis said that Prompto when into heat first. And Prompto’s his newest pet, while he knows that Gladiolus and Ignis are well trained and can survive longer without their master easing them through. Prompto’s the one that most needs _taking care of._

He announces slowly, “I’ll knot Prompto first.” Prompto practically whoops, though his voice is cracked and broken. He’s a mere shadow of his usual self, too sex-starved to do anything but shake and sob blissfully. Gladiolus and Ignis still remain in position—they must know by now that they’re not forgotten. Noctis loves them every bit as much.

Noctis proves it by kneeling down to stroke their backs, petting along their tailbones. They both lean into him but continue to present their rears for the taking. “In the meantime,” he tells them, “You two had better go get your toys. Start with the double-ended dildo. I expect you to put on a good show for your master and be ready for when I can play with you.” Ignis manages a nod. Gladiolus ruts into Noctis’ hand, but Noctis knows he must’ve heard. Pulling back to smack both of their asses at once, Noctis barks, “Go.”

The two of them instantly scramble to obey. Prompto stays where he is, crooning happily as Noctis mounts him.

And one by one, Noctis takes care of his pets.


End file.
